Hellsing: The Hound of God
by Hedgehog of Time
Summary: He is the last of the line of Pendragon and du Lac. He is a werewolf both through his blood and with the aid of science. He is the bearer of Excalibur, the Paladin, the Hound of God. With the aid of other warriors with power all their own he will tear apart the abomination and evil that is Millenium, and avenge his family. (set during WW2)


Chapter 1: The First of Wolf's Blood

(1,500 years ago)

The king sat, leaning against the trunk of the tree, his white armor was knocked, dented, rusted, Excalibur was loose in his hand. Arthur Pendragon, King of the Britons was dying. Outlined by the moon, Mordred, his cousin, the man he had trusted slowly walked towards him, his silver sword drawn, dripping with the blood of Arthur's knights, Mordred's former comrades, ready to end the man once and for all. Mordred's mouth was smeared with blood, the blood of his friends and foes alike, proof of the monster he had become. Arthur felt a tear in his eye.

Mordred stopped three feet away from the man, his black armor stained with blood both from his foes and his allies, and a sadistic smile on his face. "Are thee ready to die "Hound of God"?" hissed the demon that had once been Arthur's kin.

Arthur struggled to his feet, gripping Excalibur tighter, the blessed weapon glowing blue, acknowledging the presence of evil. "What hast happened to thou, mine dear cousin, child of mine heart. Hast Morgana poisoned thee to the extent that thou would gladly partake of the flesh and blood of thine comrades?"

"Morgana hath shown me the true meaning of power!" cried the monster. "I am now a true king! Far worthier than thou, an unholy cross of man and beast." Mordred spat at the old man. "An abomination, that is all thee are."

Arthur smiled sadly. "So, Morgana doth knowest of mine power?" the sadness in the smile turned to a one of bitter triumph. "How it must hath enraged her so, to see the curse she had lain upon me become mine power." His grin widened into a look of such glee, it bordered upon madness. "A power that I shalt use to destroyest thou! You traitor knight!" With a roar of fury Arthur tore out of his human skin, his muscles bulged, popping of portions of his armor. Ebony black fur grew all over his body, his eyes turning scarlet, his head turning to that of a wolf's, sharp canines growing in his mouth. With a final bellow of rage Arthur stood before Mordred, a massive half human half wolf beast. He gripped Excalibur in his ivory claws and pointed Heaven's at Mordred, the blade exploding into white flames, eager to bite into the flesh of the traitor. In a voice of thunder Arthur proclaimed "Now thou shalt die! VAMPIRE!"

Arthur leapt forward bringing Excalibur down in an arc which Mordred was barley quick enough to block. The raw force of the blow sent tremors up Mordred's arms. The vampire rolled out of the way, for the first time truly experiencing fear. He had grossly underestimated the raw power of Arthur's monster form, he had barley been able to stand before his transformation, now he was outclassing him in every way!

Morgana had told him that this would be easy. She had told him that he could easily kill Arthur and become king.

Morgana had lied. That or she herself didn't know that Arthur was this strong. He wasn't sure which was worse.

The white fire that surrounded Excalibur had spread to the lycan king himself, wrapping him in a layer of holy power make him shine like a small sun. _He is possessed!_ Thought Mordred in terror. It was not a possession by something conscious like an angel, or even God. It was a sort of_** goodness. **_A raw sort, like iron ore, fresh for the forging. With a savage roar, the werewolf slashed Excalibur downward at Mordred in a fiery blur. In a panic, Mordred lifted up his sword, to late realizing his mistake. With a clang Arthur shattered Mordred's silver blade in half, but the shock of it sent the lycan king stumbling back giving Mordred an opportunity. With a roar of rage he thrust his broken blade forward, right at Arthur's heart. To Mordred's shock Arthur dissolved into a black mist, parting like a river around Mordred's thrusts, reforming behind him.

Mordred turned to see, rather than the massive beast that Arthur had become, but rather something far worse. An ebony furred wolf the size of a rhinocerous with Excalibur clenched in it's teeth, white fire burning around it with black mist coming off of it like whisps of smoke. With a snarl Arthur rushed forward, ramming Mordred with his head, sending the vampire flying into the tree which had been Arthur's refuge mere moments ago.

Mordred looked up at Arthur as the black beast rushed at him, his wounds not bothering him in the least, simply focused like a laser on one simple goal, revenge. Mordred knew he had one chance, and only one chance to defeat this monster of God. With a scream of fury the occult symbols on his hands began to glow red, his body twisting and writhing. Arthur skidded to a stop staring in horror at what was happening, his teeth tightening on Excalibur. The blood of the slain warriors on the battlefield was rushing towards Mordred, into his mouth. Mordred's body began to glow red with power. With a snarl, Arthur raced forward knowing he had to stop Mordred before he sucked up all the blood from the battlefield. He ran as fast as he could at him, and lunged just as the last of the blood was drunk.

Mordred's armored hand shot out, penatrating Arthur's stomach, blood spurting out. Excalibur dropped from his mouth, as Arthur coughed up blood. Mordred smiled with an evil look in his eyes. "So, the King of Beasts and Britons doth die at the hands of the King of those that be-eth Undead."

Suddenly, there was a swirl of golden bible pages off to the side. They swirled glowing brighter and brighter. Then there was a roar of pure rage, and a form, clad in white armor with a flapping red cloak wielding an enormous black lance with a golden head jumped from them. He brought down the spear, slicing off the hand that was stuck inside Arthur's stomach at the elbow.

Arthur fell to the ground, still in his giant wolf form. Snarling in pain he clawed out the arm, allowing his body to heal. The king struggled to his feet and picked up Excalibur with his teeth, white fire and power once more covering him, turning to face Mordred and the newcomer, who now looked familiar.

"Sir Lancelot du Lac." hissed Mordred gripping his shattered silver sword tighter. "The Paladin, the Knight of Iscariot, the Judas Priest."

Lancelot inclined his handsome head, his long straw blonde hair flowing freely. He gripped his lance tighter. "I am here this cursed night to destroy an abomination to God's creation, and to aid my friend." Arthur felt tears in his wolf eyes at his dearest friends words. After all that had gone wrong between them, after their growing hate of each other, Lancelot was still here, and had called him friend.

Mordred laughed. "And bearing the Spear of Longinus as well! You truly are the whore of Rome and the Vatican."

Lancelot paid him no heed, but turned to Arthur. "My King, my friend, no matter what has happened between us, today we share a common goal, the eradication of this monster." Lancelot smiled at the great wolf. "Shall we, friend?"

Arthur nodded his great wolf head, mist peeling off his body as he returned to his bipedal wolf form. Gripping Excalibur with both hands, he turned to face Mordred, side by side with Lancelot.

Both charged Mordred at the same time brining up their blades to run the demon through, but they failed to realize something. Mordred knew he would die. There was no way the vampire could stand a chance against both of the warriors, both with weapons of divine power. He wanted only one thing. With a cry of laughter, he threw his broken blade of silver forward, hitting Arthur square in his heart, but not even that stopped the werewolf's manic charge. With a beastial roar he rammed Excalibur into Mordred's head while Lancelot slammed the Spear of Longinus, that which pireced the side of Christ, into Mordred's black heart.

The vampire screamed once as blue fire consumed his body, the Holy Weapons consuming him with their unadultured power. His flesh burned, turning to ash and his bones dropping after them, blackened and charred by the celestial flames. "Good riddance to bad rubbish I say," said Lancelot spitting on the ashes.

Arthur, robbed of his blood lust now felt the burning silver in his body. He fell to his knees, returning to his human form, feeling pathetically mortal. Excalibur fell from his fingers, clattering to the ground, white fire dissapearing. He leaned over, vomiting up blood. "Arthur!" cried Lancelot dropping the spear and going to the King's side. He saw the pommel of the broken sword sticking out of Arthur's chest. Mordred had thrown the weapon so hard that it had broken through Arthur's bones and ripped his heart clean in two. Lancelot had never felt so helpless, so useless. He had slain the vampire yes, but now Arthur, his dearest friend was dying.

"Lancelot," groaned the dying king. "Please... take... take care of Guienevere." he managed to get out. "A..and our.. children."

Lancelot had tears in his eyes. "Of course.. little Marmoset." said the Paladin using Arthur's schoolboy name, the one he had insisted Lancelot call him when it was just the two of them.

"Thank you Brigand." smiled the King. Srthur gripped Excalibur and placed it in Lancelot's hand. "Seal it Brigand, like Merlin the wise sealed the first sword. Seal it in stone, don't alow the church of Rome claim the blade."

Lancelot frowned at the weapon in his hand. "Arthur, do not ask me to choose between my God and my comrades."

Arthur gripped Lancelot's arm with surprising strength for a dying man, even if he was a werewolf. "I fought for freedom Lancelot, the freedom that God gave to us. If the church is allowed to possess the blade of Evil's Bane, then the world shalt fall under the shadow of tyranny. The monster who doth embrace God, is no better than the monster who doth regect God." Arthur's ruby red eyes looked deep into Lancelot's own blue eyes. "Please Brigand, seal it! Swear to me and swear to God!"

Lancelot nodded stiffly, unable to utter the words that would be treachery to his God. "Thank you Brigand." smiled Arthur releasing his grip on Lancelot's arm. "I have doth seen him you know. He who will claim the sword and the spear." Lancelot stared at the king in confusion. Was death driving the old man mad, or was it allowing him to see beyond the illusion that was time. "A child of both our houses, an intersection of our bloodlines. He will kill Morgana, he will slay her, and fight as a brother with heathen gods, witches, and the king of the undead."

"I-it does my heart good to know that our bloodlines will one day be one my good Marmoset." Lancelot felt tears come to his eyes. "I would have- should have followed you anywhere my brother, my friend, my captain, my King." Arthur smiled as the blue fire began to consume his body.

"Do not weep Lancelot, my curse, it is finally..." he closed his eyes, and when he opened them, they were no longer red, but baby blue, as they had been when he was a child. "..over."\

Arthur, the Wolf King of the Britons died, dissolving into ash, armor and all. Lancelot remained kneeling, mourning the death, of the greatest King, and the greatest man, the world had ever known.


End file.
